Second Chance // Sandor Clegane

17. Enemy of My Enemy

    That same night, I was on my way back from hunting, nearing the farmstead, when I heard an odd noise.

    As I crept closer, I recognized the sound as a shovel being repeatedly sent into the ground, and a man grunting.

    When the scene came into view, it was Sandor Clegane standing in front of a large, freshly dug grave, the corpses of the farmer and his daughter nearby.

    "Burying the dead? I never thought I'd see this side of you, Sandor," I remarked, approaching the large hole in the dirt.

    He whipped his head up to look at me, and then lowered it again. "That makes two of us."

    I got closer, grabbing another shovel that was nearby, and quietly got to work helping him. I could feel him stop and look at me for a moment before resuming.

    We filled the grave silently, a shared sadness flowing between us. When the last of the pile of dirt was thrown, Sandor let out a sigh, stabbing his shovel into the dirt. "I'm sorry you died. You deserved better, both of you."

    I opened my mouth to speak, but Sandor was quicker. "A fucking vampire. Always knew something was off. Ever since you threw yourself out the damn window of the Red Keep."

    A light chuckle escaped my mouth. "Yeah, I guess I could have been more discreet. You just get so used to your capabilities that you forget how to turn it off.

    "How did you survive?" I asked, turning to face the big, hulking man.

    "The septon, back at the village, he found me a few days after you and the girl left me to die." There was a bit of spite laced in his words. "One of the villagers was a hell of a maester. Don't know how I lived until they found me, though. Did you ever find the girl?"

    The softness in the last sentence made me smile sadly, and I shook my head. "No, I didn't. Couldn't even get a trace of her scent. It was like she disappeared. But I think you and I both know she's alive, wherever she may be."

    The corners of Sandor's mouth turned up slightly. "Hell, you're right about that."

    "I found Sansa. She was married off to Lord Bolton of Winterfell. I helped her escape. She's safe with her brother Jon."

    I knew he would be glad to hear this, and I could tell by his expression that I was right. But he didn't comment, just nodded.

    "I'm glad you're not dead. I'm glad I found you again," I spoke in a whisper.

    Sandor snorted. "Sure didn't seem like you cared much either way when you were running off."

    I glared at him. "That's not fair, Sandor. You were being horrible. More horrible than what is normal for you."

    He looked down, almost looking ashamed. "It's usually easier to get someone to kill you when they're angry."

    "You should start being nicer when asking for favors." I nudged him jokingly, the corners my lips pulling into a small grin. Then my face turned serious once more. "I was going to offer to change you, you know."

    "Wouldn't be the first time I got in my own way." As he spoke, I looked down, noticing something peculiar.

    Tied around the leather strap that held Sandor's sword in place, was a crimson ribbon stitched with black lilies, more worn and dirty than the last I'd seen it.

    A wide grin spread across my face and I met his eyes again. "You kept it?"

    He glanced down. "You can have it back, if you want it." He started fiddling with the knotted end.